


Sherlollipops - Warm Up

by MizJoely



Series: 221 Sherlollipops [194]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 15:06:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7443781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/pseuds/MizJoely
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>morbidmegz on tumblr gave me this two-word prompt: blanket burrito. This is my (very loosely interpreted) response to that prompt, with Sherlock and Molly locked in a freezer together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlollipops - Warm Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MorbidbyDefault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MorbidbyDefault/gifts).



Molly Hooper was cold. No, she was absolutely freezing, and it was all Sherlock Holmes’ fault. Even he had to admit that it was his fault that they’d been locked in a freezing room full of hanging slabs of meat; if he hadn’t insisted on insulting the suspect - the manager of the place rather than one of the butchers, thankfully - to the point of locking them in the freezer, they’d be safe and sound while Lestrade and the Met took him away in handcuffs.

“Yes, it’s all my fault,” Sherlock said, clearly reading the murderous expression on her face as she wrapped her arms around her shaking form. Her teeth were chattering, but his weren’t, the git. And why should they? HE was still wearing his Belstaff, while SHE had only come in her favorite jumper over a blouse.

Well, and her trousers, shoes and socks of course, but still…

Molly’s unhappy thoughts stopped short at the feeling of something warm and heavy settling on her shoulders; she looked down to see that Sherlock had shed his coat and wrapped her in it. She looked up at him, her anger melting at the sight of the very real regret on his face. “I’m sorry I got you into this mess” he said, carefully wrapping his arms around her and holding her close.

“Well, maybe next time try not to goad the suspect into a murderous rage, okay?” was all she said - but she said it with a wry grin that he answered with one of his own.

“Consider it done,” he replied.

She shivered again and he held her more snugly to his body. “Still no signal for your mobile I suppose?”

He loosened his hold enough to bring the mobile up so he could see the screen. “Nope, not a single line. Looks like we’ll just have to wait for the cavalry.”

At Molly’s inquisitive look, he explained. “I told John and Mary where we’d be and when and how long it should take. When we’re not back at the appointed time - less than an hour from now - they’ll come in with guns blazing. Figuratively speaking, of course. Lestrade gets so testy when I use that phrase.”

“What if the suspect comes back to finish us off?” Molly asked, glancing uneasily at the door. 

“He’s done a runner, probably half-way to Scotland by now, or possibly Wales. The idiots at the Met will run him down eventually.” Sherlock sounded supremely confident, and Molly decided to accept that confidence as if it were fact. 

She shivered again, teeth clattering together in spite of the warmth of Sherlock’s coat and arms around her. He frowned and turned her so that she was facing him. “Put your arms around me,” he instructed her. “Under ideal circumstances we’d be sharing warmth skin-to-skin, but since I deduce that John and Mary have already arrived on the premises, it would probably be best to save that for when we get back to Baker Street.”

She blushed and nodded, burrowing her face against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his body and the steady thump of his heart beneath her cheek. She didn’t bother asking how he knew John and Mary were there, just trusted that he was right. As for the skin-to-skin thing…well, she’d wanted that for about as long as she’d known him, so it was nice to know he wanted it as well. Unless, of course he didn’t mean what she thought he meant…

She peeked up at him, to see him smiling down at her. “Yes, Molly, when I said back at Baker Street I meant so we could have sex. There’s no point in denying ourselves what we both clearly want, is there?”

“No, I guess not,” she said, but could tell by the way his smile became a frown that he wasn’t satisfied with her response. “I mean, it’ll be lovely, and of course it doesn’t have to mean anything more than that…”

“What? Why not?” he demanded, pulling her away from his body and deepening the frown. “Don’t you want it to - yes, we’re in here!” he added in a shout as a muffled voice from outside the room began shouting their names. “Don’t you want it to mean something more?” he continued his question in a softer tone of voice, as if he hadn’t just interrupted himself.

“You know I do,” she replied, not bothering to prevaricate. “I just didn’t want you to think that I had expectations, if you didn’t have them.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, this is why relationships are so blasted complicated! Too much worrying about whether you’re both on the same page or not! Which, for the record - we are. I love you, you love me, we both want to be involved in a romantic relationship, and yes, we both want to have sex!”

“Um, yeah, are you, uh, sure you need us to…because we can just come back later.” Molly blushed hard at the sound of John’s hesitant voice; she hadn’t even heard the door open, and obviously he’d come in just at the tail end of Sherlock’s declaration.

“Yes, of course we want rescuing, John, don’t be an idiot,” Sherlock snapped, sweeping her into his arms and then sweeping the pair of them out of the meat locker. John was grinning and so was Mary when they encountered her. “Mary, your husband is an idiot,” he pronounced as he passed her and headed for the door. “Just tell Lestrade the suspect’s either headed for Wales or Scotland, he has relatives in both countries that he thinks will aid him in leaving the UK.”

“And where are you two going?” Mary called after them, but Molly, looking over Sherlock’s shoulder, saw the knowing grin on the other woman’s face.

“Molly’s freezing, she needs to be wrapped up in a blanket, preferably at Baker Street and preferably with my naked body wrapped around hers,” he called back, causing Molly to blush again. “Laters!”

It was, John confessed years later, his favorite pub-night story to tell to their friends. And he made certain to use it in his Best Man’s speech at their wedding.

 


End file.
